Marrying The Major. Joanna Maitland

slid from the saddle and stopped the old man’s tirade with an apologetic smile and a touch on his arm. ‘One of the keepers told me Lord Hardinge was back from London—so I called in at the house. It was on my way—more or less,’ she added, hoping she was not blushing. ‘But I stayed too long. Is Papa very worried?’

      ‘Well—he hasn’t started scouring the woods yet, Miss Emma, though I dare say he might have done, in another hour or so. If only you wouldn’t ride out alone, Miss Emma…’

      Emma grinned. ‘Look after Juno for me, please,’ she said. ‘I’d better present myself for inspection, to prove I’m all in one piece.’ Looping the tail of her habit over her arm, Emma hurried up to the house and her father’s study.

      ‘Emma!’ he cried, the moment she appeared in the doorway.

      Emma could hear the note of concern in his voice. Oh, dear. First, she had upset Hugo, and now her father.

      She ran to him, wrapped her arms tightly round his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Forgive me, Papa, for being so thoughtless. I went to visit Richard and…and I’m afraid I lost track of time. I’m sorry you were worried.’

      Her father cleared his throat rather loudly. ‘Emma, if you would only take a groom with you, I’d have no cause to worry. Why don’t you—?’

      Emma fixed her wide blue gaze on her father’s face. ‘Oh, Papa, must I? Don’t you think I can ride well enough to be trusted out on my own?’

      ‘It’s not that—and you know it,’ he responded gruffly, removing each of her arms in turn. ‘The very best of riders can be caught out. That includes you, Emma.’

      He was right. Even Juno had been spooked on occasion by a strange noise or a sudden movement.

      Emma kissed her father a second time. ‘I’ll try to be good, Papa, I promise,’ she said. His answering smile told her she had won him round yet again. He was easily satisfied.

      ‘Well,’ he said, settling himself back in his favourite chair, ‘tell me about Richard. Is he well? And little Dickon? Did you see Lady Hardinge, too? I dare swear she is worn out, after all that travelling.’

      ‘They are all very well, Papa. And Dickon has grown so much that you will not recognise him. He is starting to walk, too. Jamie is…’ Emma hesitated. ‘Jamie is…increasing again. The midwife says it will be twins.’ Her words all came out in a rush.

      ‘Twins?’ echoed Sir Edward. ‘Oh, my… Oh, dear…’

      Emma could see that he was thinking back to the loss of his own wife, when Emma was born. Emma sat down beside him and patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, Papa. Jamie says she’s as strong as a horse. And it’s not as if it’s her first…’ Emma’s voice tailed off once more. What a stupid thing to say, reminding her father that first babies—like Emma—were by far the most dangerous. What was the matter with her today? Her brain seemed to be scrambled.

      ‘You’ll never guess who is staying at Harding, Papa.’ Emma changed the subject with exaggerated cheerfulness.

      Sir Edward smiled a little wanly. ‘Tell me,’ he said.

      ‘Hugo Stratton. Major Hugo Stratton. Do you remember him?’

      Sir Edward nodded. ‘Yes, I do. A Major, eh? Well, I’m not at all surprised. I thought he had the makings of a good officer, even then. Let me see—how many years is it since he joined the colours? Eight?’

      ‘Nearly eleven, Papa,’ said Emma.

      ‘Really? Strange that he hasn’t made Colonel, then,’ said Sir Edward, half to himself. ‘Though he’d have to compete with all those fellows buying their promotions, I suppose. There aren’t that many field promotions, even in wartime. And a majority is still something to be proud of.’

      ‘Papa, I don’t understand. What is wrong with being a Major?’

      ‘Nothing, my dear, nothing. I’m sure Major Stratton has had a distinguished career. He’s sold out now, I suppose?’

      ‘I…I don’t know, Papa. He…he has been badly wounded. I’m not sure how, or when. He walks with a limp and has to use a cane. And he…his face is horribly scarred, Papa.’ Her father’s shock was evident. ‘Oh, I’m sure it will look better in time but, at the moment…’

      Suddenly, Emma’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Papa, I’ve done such a dreadful thing. I didn’t know, you see. And when I saw Hugo, I got such a shock that I…I embarrassed him terribly, staring at his scars. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. And Hugo was insulted. He could hardly bring himself to speak to me. Oh, Papa, I’m so ashamed. What shall I do?’

      Sir Edward patted her shoulder consolingly. ‘You must apologise,’ he said quietly.

      ‘I tried to, but I couldn’t get the words out, not when he was staring me out with those hard grey eyes of his. And now, it’s too late to say anything. That would only make matters worse.’

      He offered her his handkerchief. ‘You may be right, my dear.’ He paused to pull at his ear lobe, as he always did when he was worrying about something. ‘Well, if you cannot tell him you are sorry, you must show him, go out of your way to help him to…to come to terms with his injuries. Can you do that, do you think?’

      Emma nodded dumbly and wiped her eyes, feeling more ashamed than ever. She never lost control. She had always prided herself on that. And she never allowed herself to cry—especially not in front of her papa. He liked her to be gay, and cheerful, and…and strong-minded. As she would be again.

      Even with Major Hugo Stratton.

      Chapter Three

      ‘No. I could not accept.’

      Jamie cast an imploring look towards her husband. She had clearly exhausted her own arguments and was desperate for him to intervene.

      ‘Hugo, please reconsider,’ Richard said seriously. ‘The Fitzwilliams are our oldest friends. They will be very hurt if you refuse.’

      ‘I have absolutely no intention of providing a raree-show for Miss Fitzwilliam and her dinner guests, Richard. Acceptance is out of the question. Now, if you will excuse me…’ Hugo limped towards the door. ‘My apologies to you, ma’am,’ he said as he opened it, ‘if my refusal creates difficulties for you with your friends. But my mind is made up. I will not attend.’ He closed the door quietly behind him.

      ‘Oh, dear.’ Jamie’s shoulders had slumped. ‘How will we ever persuade him to return to Society if he will not attend even a small dinner amongst friends?’

      Richard shook his head sadly. He hated to see his wife so upset. ‘I don’t know, my love. I really don’t. I’d ask Emma to talk to him—but, after yesterday’s encounter, he seems to wish to avoid her completely.’ He started to pace. ‘I had better ride over to Longacres to warn Emma, though, before she receives Hugo’s note. If she learns of his refusal by letter, we really will be in the suds.’

      ‘Tell her how hard we tried, Richard,’ said Jamie, a little wearily.

      ‘I will—but she will know that without my telling her. Remember, she knows you.’ Richard bent to place a gentle, lingering kiss on his wife’s lips. ‘Don’t worry, my love. Even if we can’t resolve this now, it will soon blow over. And Hugo is bound to become less sensitive—eventually.’

      That thought remained with Richard throughout his ride across his own estate to Sir Edward’s. Hugo was as stubborn as a mule—and stiff-necked besides, as well as proud, touchy, exasperating… Richard could have continued with his list for some time, but he did not. Hugo was a good man, and a good friend, who had suffered a great deal during his years as a soldier. With time, his testiness would mellow—probably.

      ‘Richard!’

      Emma was almost upon him before Richard